


my devotion placed on the palm of your hands

by yoonminoml (fanficloverme96)



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, M/M, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Reincarnation, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18353756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanficloverme96/pseuds/yoonminoml
Summary: Sougo, the Literature God who was once the Crown Prince of his kingdom before his ascension into Godhood, catches the attention of the masked God of War, Tamaki, a figure shrouded in mystery and is generally avoided by other Gods. Despite never seeing his face, Tamaki feels familiar to Sougo in ways he could not understand.Written for MEZZO" exchange.





	my devotion placed on the palm of your hands

**Author's Note:**

> This work is based on 天官赐福 (Tiān Guān Cì Fú or Heaven’s Official Blessing), a BL novel written by 墨香铜臭 (Mò Xiāng Tóngxiù), as it shares the general plot setting and certain terms, but some concepts from the original work have been tweaked to suit the needs of this fic. However, you don’t need to be familiar with her work to understand this fic as it could be read as it is. Also, for the purpose of this fic and due to its setting, just a heads-up that Tamaki will be addressed as Tamaki-san by Sougo, instead of the canon Tamaki-kun. The reason why will be further explained in the ending note to avoid spoilers.

If one were to talk about the kingdom of the Northern Lands, one would most definitely mention the Crown Prince, Sougo, who ascended into Godhood at 20.

 

For one to ascend into Godhood, one must possess an immeasurable amount of skill and have proven their worth during their time as a mortal. While not all skilled individuals become Gods, all Gods are very much skilled in their own expertise.

 

Most mortals ascend as Martial Gods, known for their skills in war and battle. Some mortals ascend for their wisdom, instead, and become Literature Gods. Some become entirely different types of Gods - be it for the elements, or for wealth, or perhaps even for love.

 

For Sougo, he became the second most common type of God - a God of Literature. Indeed, while his skills in battle is nothing to talk down upon, he is more widely known for his immense wisdom. He participated in many wars not as a soldier, but as a strategist or an advisor, and it is with his guidance, that his kingdom won all the wars it partook in.

 

His contribution towards his kingdom eventually gained the attention of the Heavens, and on his 20th birthday, the day he gets recognized as an adult, with a mighty bang, he ascended into Godhood, and left his mortal life for the life of a God. Due to his amiable nature, he was well-liked by the citizens of his kingdom, so naturally, when he became a God, he gained many devotees. As a God, having many devotees is important as the more devotees a God has, the more powerful they become.

 

It is to no one’s surprise that Sougo became quite a powerful Literature God, indeed.

 

However, there is one secret that Sougo keeps that no one knew.

 

He never wanted to become a God. It had been his father’s efforts that he became one, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was groomed to obey the King’s wishes, Sougo would have preferred a quiet, uneventful, mortal life.

 

But what is done is done, and while living in the Heavens with the rest of the Gods isn’t entirely bad, it is not home.

 

It never will be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What’s with the long face, Your Highness?”

 

Nagi is peering at him curiously. His golden hair shines in the light, and matches the bold red color of his robes. Nagi was a Prince like him when he was a mortal, and thanks to his contribution towards his kingdom’s economy, which blossomed to the point that poverty was basically non-existent, he ascended as the God of Prosperity, with the ability to bless someone with wealth in various forms.

 

Naturally, his robes are often extravagant, and it is nothing normal for him to randomly grant blessings to anyone when he feels like it due to his abundance of spiritual powers. People tend to flock Gods which promise wealth, so his power is immeasurable.

 

He speaks in a funny way, though - stressing on his vowels too much and hurrying over his consonants - which is only the downside to his otherwise perfect exterior. Sougo supposes that not even Gods can be perfect.

 

“I told you not to call me that,” Sougo sighs.

 

“Oh… but I’m just too used to it.” Nagi sits beside Sougo under the tree in the Heaven’s orchard, where an abundance of fruit trees grew and never withered. “Why are you here, anyway? Don’t you have preparations to make for the upcoming Lantern Festival?”

 

The Lantern Festival is one of the many festivities celebrated by both mortals and Gods annually. For mortals, it was the chance to prove their devotion for their chosen God, giving them tributes in hopes that their deepest wish will be granted if the God deems their devotion to be true and sincere. For the Gods, it became some sort of a competition - those with the highest of tributes will be given a surge of spiritual powers by the Heaven’s Emperor, who is considered the God among Gods, and the privilege to expand their territory for that year, which will in turn grant them more devotees.

 

Last year, Sougo had won, and his influence spread even to the most obscure lands. The winner before him had been Riku, the God of Health, who used his increase of powers to cure a previously incurable sickness. Coincidentally, it had been the same sickness which took the boy’s life when he was a mortal, and it was because of the purity of his soul that he ascended as a minor God, before his powers grew gradually and he became the powerful God he is today.

 

It seems that Nagi is determined to win this year, Sougo thinks with amusement.

 

“I’m just taking a break,” he answers, “My devotees can handle a few hours without my guidance.”

 

“And does this Great God of Literature have any advice for humble old me?” Nagi asks teasingly.

 

Sougo makes a face. “Gods of Literature aren’t uncommon, and I’m certainly not a Great one. But,” He glances at Nagi. “Perhaps improve on your intonation?”

 

Nagi pretends to look wounded. “I’ll have you know my devotees think my way of speaking is inspiring! They often shed tears when I visit them in their dreams!”

 

“They’re shedding tears because you’re granting them wealth, Nagi-kun,” Sougo points out not unkindly. “And besides -,”

 

He cuts himself off, suddenly catching sight of a lone figure not too far away from them. The figure is leaning against a nearby tree, dressed entirely in black. He seems to be a Martial God, judging from the light armour he wears and the sword that hangs at his hip. His face is half hidden with a black mask that has gold trimmings. He has his head ducked as he stands underneath the tree with his arms crossed.

 

“Who’s that?’ Sougo asks.

 

Nagi follows the direction of his gaze, and his expression changes when he finds the source of Sougo’s shift in attention.

 

“Oh,” he begins, his tone subdued, “You’re quite new here so I’m guessing you’ve never met him. That’s Tamaki. He’s the God of War.”

 

“God of War?” This is the first time Sougo has heard of this term. Martial Gods often assist in battles, but they do not only assist in wars, but also other kinds of conflicts, be it minor or major. But this is the first time he heard a God specially for the purpose of war. “What did he ascend for?”

 

“Hm. I’m not so sure about that, to be honest. I’m guessing for his contributions in battles, but Martial Gods ascend for the same reason, so I don’t know the specific answer,” replies Nagi. “People usually don’t like hanging around him, though, and he’s rarely around in the first place so it makes it easier to avoid him.”

 

Sougo looks at Nagi in confusion. “Why would people want to avoid him?”

 

Nagi hesitates for a brief moment.

 

“Well…” He doesn’t meet Sougo’s gaze. “You can’t be around him for too long without noticing the constant smell of blood on him.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sougo bumps into Riku later that day, who just returned from visiting one of his temples.  He can see the familiar bright red hair from a mile away, and is already lifting his hand to wave hello when the younger God spots him, breaking into a wide grin.

 

“Sougo-san!” Riku greets cheerfully, his loose white robes billowing behind him as he bounds up to Sougo. “It’s been a while!”

 

Sougo nods, smiling gently. “It has, hasn’t it? We’re both been so busy with our duties that we barely see each other anymore. How are you, Riku-kun?”

 

Riku beams. “Never better! I visited my village today!” He giggles. “I saw my parents praying in front of my statue. I usually never got my timings right and tend to miss them, but I managed to see them this time!”

 

“That’s great, Riku-kun.”

 

“And also…” Riku trails off, looking down. His smile softens around the edges. “I saw Tenn-nii, too. He… He looked different.”

 

Sougo’s smile dampens as well at the mention of the boy’s name. “I see.”

 

Becoming a God has its price - one should never interact directly to mortals save for occasional dreams, and one should let go of their mortal ties completely, especially ones with families. This is usually not a hard thing to do for those who ascended after or near the time of their death, but for those ascended when they were alive, such as Sougo, becoming a God quite literally meant that you are to disappear from the mortal plane of existence.

 

Ironically, not thinking about his family is easy for Sougo, but was incredibly difficult for Riku, despite the latter ascending after his death.

 

He especially has the hardest time of letting go of Tenn, who was his older twin brother when he was still a mortal.

 

“It’s been several years, hasn’t it?” Sougo asks gently. “He’s grown older.”

 

“He’s taller, too. And becoming more and more handsome.” Riku giggles, though it lasts for a few seconds before it dies down again. “He never looks happy whenever I see him, though. I can’t remember the last time I saw him smile. I hope he’s okay,” Riku murmurs worriedly.

 

Sougo could only place a steady hand on the young God’s shoulder as means of comfort. Perhaps, Riku is not the only one who has a hard time moving on.

 

“Anyway!” Riku says, his tone brightening again. If he is trying to change the subject, Sougo might as well go with the flow. “I heard you bumped into the God of War, today.”

 

“A-ah. Well,” Sougo scratches the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t say I met him. I just saw him from afar.”

 

“I’ve always wanted to meet him,” Riku admits, “From what I’ve heard, he’s one of the oldest Gods here. He must have seen a lot! But…” Riku fidgets on his feet. “Yamato-san said that Tamaki-san doesn’t really like to be around people, and tend to disappear a lot.”

 

“Riku-kun, what did I tell you about hanging around in the Underworld? You know the spirits there can cause a lot of trouble,” Sougo chides.

 

“Yamato-san is my friend!” Riku insists, “Not all ghosts are bad, Sougo-san!”

 

People, when they die, are usually presented with three possibilities: do enough good deeds in your mortal life and you will be given the chance to be reincarnated; contribute significantly to those around you or have an incredibly pure soul, you may ascend as a minor God at the very least; or, if you have a lingering attachment to the mortal realm, be it out of resentment or unfinished business, your spirit will remain on Earth as a ghost.

 

Ghosts roam in the Underworld. Yamato, the ghost of a samurai who was killed unjustly by his lord, happens to be an acquaintance to many - Sougo included. Sougo has to admit that Riku’s words are true; while he is fond of mischief, Yamato isn’t necessarily… evil. At least, for now.

 

“Regardless. Don’t hang around too long in the Underworld, Riku-kun. That realm can weaken your spiritual powers in the long run,” Sougo adds firmly.

 

Riku pouts. “Okay… Sougo-san! If you meet the God of War, can you introduce him to me? I really want to meet him!”

 

“You speak as if befriending him is easy…” Sougo replies weakly.

 

The two eventually part ways, and Sougo decides to head back to the Heaven’s Great Archive, where all records of both mortals and spirits are kept, as well as the records of devotee’s prayers for each God. He could use some reading, perhaps go over prayers he may have missed. On days like these, he is glad that he is not as popular as Ryuunosuke, affectionately known as Ryuu by the rest, who despite his humble fisherman background, ended up ascending as the God of Love.

 

One can only imagine how many prayers he gets every day. No, every minute.

 

He goes through his records of prayers in silence, thumbing through the files as he sits on the floor. The Archive is quiet today, since most Gods are visiting their devotees in preparation for the upcoming Lantern Festival in couple of weeks, and Sougo appreciates the time alone. It allows him to let his mind wander, as he searches for the name he wishes to find the most.

 

As usual, he doesn’t.

 

His father, despite it being his wish to have Sougo have an early ascension to Godhood, never prayed for him since his ascension. His file never exists among the piles, not even after more than a decade since Sougo became a God.

 

Sougo laughs bitterly. It’s not as if he doesn’t expect it. On the day of his unexpected ascension, he and his father had perhaps the biggest argument they ever had. Sougo is sure that his father never forgave him for it, thus his lack of prayers.

 

He finds it ironic; despite fulfilling his father’s greatest wish, he ends up as a disappointment to him, anyway.

 

He glances at the few files he placed on his lap. A faded photo of a woman with a warm expression is clipped at the left corner of the document. Sougo traces the name on the paper.

 

At least his mother still prays for him. Though it comes very few in between.

 

He gathers the documents in his arms and moves to exit the Archive. He reaches for the knob of the front door absentmindedly, still distracted with his thoughts. He continues to walk forward, and suddenly -

 

He bumps into something. Or rather, someone.

 

“P-Pardon me! I didn’t see where I was going!” Sougo immediately bows.

 

“Your Highness,” a deep voice drawls out.

 

Sougo lifts his gaze, and the first thing he sees is a black mask, lined with gold trimmings.

 

Standing in front of him, is none other than the God of War himself, Tamaki.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sougo is not sure how he ends up in this situation, but he finds himself sitting on the steps of the Archive, Tamaki by his side. The aforementioned God of War has his own fair share of documents piled up on his lap, and he goes through them without a word. After bumping into him, Tamaki doesn’t say anything when Sougo profusely apologized; instead, he stares at the documents in Sougo’s arms with something akin to curiosity.

 

“Prayers?” he asks. His voice is low and on the husky side, but he sounds young; it reminds of Sougo of a teenage boy.

 

Sougo looks at the documents he is holding. “A-ah! Yes! Um.” He peeks at Tamaki. “Are you here to read yours, too?”

 

Tamaki shrugs. “Might as well.”

 

One thing leads to another and soon enough, the pair is sitting in front of the Archive, going through their respective documents in silence while enjoying the outdoor air. Sougo couldn’t help but to glance at the God in front of him. Throughout their entire interaction, Tamaki hasn’t taken off his mask once. Not that he needs to - Sougo knows quite a few beings who have eccentric wardrobe choices - but it doesn’t mean that he isn’t curious about his appearance.

 

And then, there are Nagi’s words.

 

Sougo takes a soft whiff. Despite Nagi’s claims, he doesn’t smell anything remotely like blood surrounding the God beside him. Not even any hints of the aftermath of battles. He does smell like spice, though. A pleasant enough smell.

 

Sougo blinks. What the heck is he even doing, going around smelling people? He must be losing his mind.

 

“Are you done with the preparations for the Lantern Festival?” he asks politely, hoping to break the ice between them.

 

Tamaki turns his head towards him slightly. “Why do you ask?”

 

“O-oh. It’s just that I noticed that your prayer documents are a lot. I can imagine how much work you have to go through.”

 

Tamaki shrugs. “I haven’t taken part in the Lantern Festival in a long while.”

 

Sougo blinks. “Why not?”

 

“Just don’t feel like it.” There is something dismissive in Tamaki’s tone that hints he doesn’t want to explain himself further. Sougo decides not to pry - they only just met, and Sougo doesn’t want to come off rude. His words also implied that he’s been around longer than Sougo, so the last thing Sougo wants to do is to disrespect a God with a higher seniority than him.

 

“What about you, Your Highness?” Tamaki asks, breaking Sougo’s train of thought. “I heard you won the competition last year.”

 

Sougo grimaces. It’s an embarrassing topic to talk about - he never likes to gloat about things like that. “Ah, well. It isn’t anything I did. My devotees did all the work.”

 

Tamaki hums. “Your Highness, do you like your devotees?”

 

Sougo doesn’t expect that question. “I’m… grateful to them,” he answers carefully. “Why do you ask?”

 

Sougo cannot see the expression he makes, but Tamaki’s lips is pulled into a thin line, as the God shrugs again. “Just asking.”

 

“Devotees contribute to our spiritual powers, after all,” Sougo adds, “If one were to lose devotees, that would result in the loss of our powers, and in turn, affect our ability to help people.” He stops, scratching his cheek. “Ah...my apologies. I didn’t mean to rant.”

 

“Why are you apologizing for?”

 

“Y-you’ve been around longer than I have, right? I’ve most likely said something that you already knew.”

 

Tamaki’s lips curve upwards into a small smile. “I don’t care for something like that.” He rises to his feet, the documents in his arms disappearing back into their place in the Archive with a simple wave of Tamaki’s hand. “Besides, you’re right. Devotees are important to us. They shape us, after all.”

 

Perhaps it is Sougo’s imagination, but there is something...melancholic in the way Tamaki says those words. As if there is an underlying meaning.

 

“Tamaki-san!” Sougo calls out, just as Tamaki begins to walk down the steps.

 

Tamaki glances at him. “Mm?”

 

Sougo hesitates. “Do you… do you like your devotees?”

 

There is a pause.

 

“There was a time where I did,” Tamaki replies, “But now… I don’t really care for things like that.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It becomes a habit since then, for Sougo to bump into Tamaki. The past several days, he always sees him hanging around the Archive, as if waiting for Sougo to finish his work so he could accompany him. Despite the other Gods’ perception of him, Sougo finds Tamaki easy to talk to. He answers what is needed and doesn’t elaborate unless prompted, but Sougo feels as if he doesn’t need to feel reserved around him.

 

Which is nice, because being careful of your words can be quite stifling over time.

 

And, despite never seeing his face once, Sougo feels a strange sense of familiarity whenever he is around Tamaki, as if they met before. Which is strange, because Sougo is quite sure they never did.

 

They are eating underneath a tree in the Heaven’s garden - all the while ignoring the stares the other Gods giving them, or more specifically, Tamaki - when Sougo decides to broach the subject. Looking at the apple in his hands, Sougo opens his mouth to speak after arranging the words he wants to say in his head.

 

“Tamaki-san?”

 

“Mm?”

 

Sougo hesitates. He suddenly can’t ask, as if the question is too rude to even be brought up. He looks at Tamaki, and when the words escape his mouth, he couldn’t believe what he is hearing.

 

“Why do you wear that mask?”

 

Sougo mentally smacks himself. Why did he ask that? That’s even ruder than his initial question!

 

“Does Your Highness want me to take it off?” Tamaki asks in return. There is no indication in his tone that he is bothered by the previous question, but Sougo would rather not risk any chances. He holds up his hands quickly, shaking his head.

 

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine! It doesn’t bother me! I was just...I was just…” He sighs, gaze dropping to his lap. His cheeks burn in embarrassment. “I was just curious, that’s all. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay, too. I wasn’t thinking of my words.”

 

He hears a hum, before he sees Tamaki move to lean against the tree, his arms folded behind his head. His apple is left on the grass, halfway eaten.

 

“I’ve had it for as long as I could remember,” he says. His lips quirk upwards. “It was given to me by someone special.”

 

Sougo leans in, curious. “Oh, who?”

 

The smile turns into a smirk. “That’s a secret.”

 

Sougo sighs. “Fine, if you say so.”

 

Tamaki laughs. “You’re not even going to fight for the answer?”

 

“I know a losing battle when I see one,” Sougo points out simply.

 

Tamaki laughs again, and Sougo distantly thinks it’s a nice laugh. He commits it to memory before he realizes he did.

 

“And don’t worry,” Tamaki adds, “Your words don’t bother me. You’re not the first one who’s curious.” He smiles. “Though I guess you’re the first one to ask so politely.”

 

Sougo isn’t sure whether he likes the implication behind those words.

 

“Anyway, the story behind it is very uninteresting. You’ll be bored to death hearing it,” Tamaki continues, and before Sougo could protest, Tamaki is already looking at him. “What about you, Your Highness? Surely your story is much more interesting.”

 

“My… story?” Sougo repeats slowly.

 

“Mmph. The story of your ascension.”

 

“Oh…” Sougo laces his fingers together. “It isn’t that interesting. Besides, I’m sure you’ve heard from other Gods, right? It’s not exactly a secret.”

 

Tamaki shrugs. “I don’t mingle with the rest, though.”

 

 _Then why do you mingle with me?_ Sougo couldn’t help but think, but keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t voice this out.

 

“Oh, um. Well, as you know, I was the Crown Prince of my kingdom,” Sougo begins, “It was known as the Northern Lands before my ascension, but it’s known as the Ko Kingdom after my older brother eventually took over after I became God. I ascended when I turned 20.”

 

“That’s quite young,” Tamaki remarks. “You must have cultivated a lot to ascend so early.”

 

Sougo laughs, though it sounds hollow to his own ears. “My father wanted me to ascend, so he made sure that I fit all the requirements. He knew that I had a knack for wisdom since I was a child, so he focused on that. I don’t think I remember a day when I wasn’t pouring over books and ancient scrolls. When I was old enough, I was asked to study war strategies. I took part in wars as a strategist from as young as 14.” He exhales. “My first war, and my first victory, was actually just a day before my 14th birthday.”

 

Tamaki is quiet for a second. “Forgive me if I’m assuming too much, but you don’t sound like you enjoyed what you were doing.”

 

Sougo plays with his fingers again, lacing and unlacing them as he ponders over Tamaki’s words. “I was young. Earning my father, no, the King’s, approval was all that became my motivation. I honestly… it’s not the question of whether I liked doing what I did. I was good at it, so I continued doing it. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

 

Or can he? He closes his eyes. Of course, he can. What a liar he is. It was one of the reasons behind his argument with his father, after all.

 

He lets out a breath. “Though it’s ironic in the end.”

 

“And why’s that?” asks Tamaki curiously.

 

Sougo chews his bottom lip. He’s not sure why he’s about to say the next thing on his mind. Not many Gods know of this little fact. And yet here he is, about to spill out his emotions to another God whom he had only known for a number of days.

 

Perhaps, it is the fact that Tamaki makes him oddly at ease.

 

“I haven’t received a single prayer from my father since I ascended. It was due to some stupid fight, but it doesn’t matter.” Sougo smiles bitterly. “Even after fulfilling his greatest wish, I still end up as a disappointment in his eyes.”

 

Tamaki is quiet next to him. Sougo wonders what could be on Tamaki’s mind.

 

“Anyway,” Sougo continues with a hurried breath, “By the time I ascended, I already had countless of victories on my belt, more than most people. But since I wasn’t known for my battle skills, but rather my intellect, I became a Literature God, instead of a Martial God. Which is good, because if you give me a sword, I think I would probably end up stabbing myself.”

 

A short burst of laughter escapes Tamaki’s lips. “You never learned how to use a sword?”

 

“I never said I didn’t,” Sougo argues, “I just never focused on honing my swordsmanship skills. I was busy strategizing and researching books. Frankly…” he sighs, “I’m pretty bad at it. If you ask me to find a specific chapter of a specific topic from a specific volume, I would be able to remember from the page number all the way to which paragraph the answer is contained. But if you ask me to spar with someone, I would admit defeat even before I can land a hit.”

 

Tamaki laughs again. “There goes my chance of ever inviting you for practice.”

 

Sougo laughs as well. “Sorry to disappoint.”

 

They sit in comfortable silence for a little while, before Sougo hears a quiet sigh from Tamaki. He turns to look at  him curiously. With the mask on, Sougo couldn’t guess his expression, but his lips is pursed together as he stares ahead, as if he is thinking about something.

 

“Ah, Your Highness is making it unfair,” Tamaki suddenly complains.

 

Sougo blinks, not comprehending. “I am? How so?”

 

“You told me quite a bit about yourself, so I should tell you a bit about me, too,” Tamaki points out. “To be fair.”

 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You don’t need to settle my curiosity,” Sougo reassures.

 

“Heh,” Tamaki smiles. “At least you openly admit that you’re curious. That’s nice. Honesty is always nice.”

 

Sougo can’t really say he agrees on that notion 100%, but again, he doesn’t voice this out.

 

“Mm… I won’t say much but…” Tamaki glances upwards. Sougo unconsciously leans forward, eager to listen. “Well, let’s just say that this mask has something to do with the fact that I don’t really participate in the Lantern Festival much anymore.”

 

Sougo doesn’t expect that explanation, and if anything, it only makes his curiosity stronger.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

There is a tiny smile on Tamaki’s face.

 

“I had an… interesting experience with the Lantern Festival. A long time ago. And,” He turns his head slightly towards Sougo, as if glancing at him. “That goes the same with my devotees.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Sougo-san?”

 

Sougo looks up from his pile of prayer documents, and sees Iori standing in front of his desk. Iori is a fellow Literature God who, thanks to his seniority,  is permanently stationed at the Archive. This meant that he would be among the first who has access to all the prayers and information available in the Heavens, and on rare occasions, Iori has the authority to either promote or demote a God based on their performance. To promote would mean an increase in spiritual power and influence; demotion would imply otherwise, or worse - a God may end up descending back as a mortal.

 

For someone who looks as young as a teenager, Iori is not someone to mess with. Luckily for Sougo, he also happens to be one of Sougo’s closest friends, being one of the few ones who personally knew him since his ascension into the Heavens.

 

“Yes, Iori-kun? Do you need something?” Sougo asks amiably.

 

“Forgive me if I sound like I’m prying,” Iori begins, his expression serious, “But I can’t help that you’ve made an acquaintance out of the God of War.”

 

Sougo pauses. “Oh, you mean Tamaki-san? Mm. We met several days ago, and we often accompanied each other since then.”

 

“I… see,” Iori says slowly, “Has he been treating you well?”

 

Sougo blinks owlishly, not expecting the question. “He doesn’t speak much, but he’s nice enough to be around with. If anything, he listens very well, though his opinions on certain things can be…” Sougo smiles inwardly. “Straightforward.” He regards Iori curiously. “May I know why you’re asking?”

 

Iori glances around him, and when he is sure that no one is within hearing vicinity, he pulls up a chair and sits in front of Sougo’s desk, regarding him seriously.

 

“Have you heard anything about Tamaki-san before you two met?” he asks.

 

“Um… I heard he’s usually rarely around in the Heavens. Tamaki-san admitted that he doesn’t mingle much, too.” Sougo considers. “Nagi-kun mentioned something but…”

 

“What was it?” Iori prompts.

 

Sougo hesitates. “He said that others avoid him because… because he smells like blood a lot of times. But,” he quickly adds, “That doesn’t seem to be the case with me? I can’t smell anything like that whenever I’m with him. So perhaps… it was just a rumor?”

 

Iori stares at Sougo for a brief moment before he sighs heavily. “Nagi-san isn’t wrong,” he says, causing Sougo to widen his eyes in surprise, “That is one of the reasons people avoid him. It’s not always, but it does happen more often than we prefer. Or rather….” Iori pauses. “Rather than the smell of blood per se, people avoid him because whenever he bothers to appear here in the Heavens, there’s always an atmosphere of death surrounding him. It’s… uncomfortable, to say the least.”

 

“Death…” Sougo repeats quietly. He looks at Iori a little apprehensively. “Perhaps I never noticed it, but again, I never sensed anything out of the ordinary whenever I’m with him. And even if I will do eventually, isn’t Tamaki-san the God of War anyway? To be in a battlefield would imply the presence of death so -,”

 

“Surely you have wondered,” Iori interrupts, “Why you’ve never even heard of the term God of War before you met Tamaki-san.”

 

Sougo keeps quiet, then. Iori had hit the nail on the head. Sougo _had_ been curious.

 

“The thing about us Gods, is that aside from the Heaven’s Emperor, the titles we possess aren’t unique to one individual,” Iori continues, “There are countless of Literature Gods, just as how there are countless of Martial Gods. Even special types of Gods which cater to specific needs, such as health or wealth, have at least one other God sharing the same title, though one’s influence may differ from the other. Do you know why, Sougo-san?”

 

“Because people from different places have their own beliefs of Gods, thus creating different versions of them, yet they carry the same title if they serve the same purpose,” Sougo answers, reciting from memory. It had been one of the first few things he was taught when he was a mortal.

 

Iori nods. “That is correct. Even us Literature Gods can be known by different names depending on one’s beliefs, such as God of Knowledge, perhaps, but here in the Heavens, we all share the same title. Martial Gods, who serve to help mortals in the matter of battles and conflict, can be known as the God of War in some places, as well, but again, here in the Heavens, they are simply known as a Martial God. This is, however, not the case with Tamaki-san. That title is unique only to him. Do you know why, Sougo-san?”

 

Mutely, Sougo shakes his head.

 

There is a shadow fleeting across Iori’s expression. “That is because, once, a very long time ago, something happened to him, and I hope for your sake, you don’t try to find out what it was.”

 

“And why is that?” Sougo asks.

 

There is a brief silence.

 

“If there is one thing the God of War hates, it’s someone trying to pull out something he spent centuries burying into the ground. And Heavens forbid if someone upsets him enough.” Iori’s gaze darkens. “He can bring war to the Heavens itself.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh? The God of War’s friends?” Nagi asks, putting in one arm through a sleeve as he peers at Sougo over his shoulder.

 

“Mm,” Sougo says, folding his hands demurely as he watches Nagi change into another set of robes. The God of Prosperity is preparing to descend into the mortal realm to oversee one of his territories, and Sougo is lucky he manages to catch him before he leaves. “Surely he has old acquaintances, at least. I refuse to believe he knew no one after being in the Heavens for so long.”

 

Nagi furrows his brows, thinking deeply. “Well, I’m not sure if they’re considered his friends, but I’ve heard rumours that the old samurai ghost that Riku likes knows him since a long time ago. Oh, and that ghost who sings a lot, spooking many villagers who wondered too close to his territory.” Nagi makes a face. “Ghosts have so much free time to be bothering mortals, don’t they?”

 

A samurai ghost? A singing one? The samurai ghost is no doubt Yamato, but who could Nagi be referring to as the singing ghost?

 

“Nagi-kun.”

 

“Yes, Your Highness?”

 

Sougo decides to ignore that title for once. “Where is this singing ghost’s territory? It could help me narrow down which one you meant. Unless you have a name?”

 

Nagi shakes his head, looking regretful. “I don't know that many ghosts, Your Highness. Not enough to remember any names, at least. I only knew he liked to sing because of stories circulating in the mortal realm. People love to entertain themselves with scary stories, after all. But as for the territory, if I’m not mistaken…” He pauses. “Ah! It’s near the Eastern border of the Han Kingdom. Iori used to live there as a mortal, you see.” He pauses again. “Ah, come to think of it, wasn’t there another rumour that Iori used to have an older brother who died just before Iori’s ascension? What was his name again…? Mutsuki? Mitaki?”

 

“It’s Mitsuki-san,” Sougo interrupts, “And thank you, Nagi-kun. You’ve been a great help!”

 

Nagi blinks, seemingly confused by the sudden praise but pleased by it all the same. He offers him a grin. “It is not a problem. Anything for my beloved friends.” He stops, as if remembering something. “But why do you ask, Your Highness?”

 

Sougo bites his bottom lip.

 

“There is something I’m curious about that I can’t ignore.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The trip to the Underworld is a short one; one step into a teleportation portal in front of the Heavens’ gates, and Sougo already finds himself standing in front of a cave that acts as the entrance to the Ghost Realm. The entrance changes from time to time to avoid detection, but if one were to go there through the Heavens, they will always be instantly guided there.

 

The cave is situated in a deep part of the jungle near the Eastern borders, which makes things easier for Sougo to find Mitsuki. Ghosts don’t always wander around their territory, but wandering inside it increases the chances of spotting them, and since the current entrance of the Underworld just happens to be in Mitsuki’s territory this time, Sougo feels as if he landed a jackpot this time.

 

As he walks into the cave, its darkness dissipated by the glow of light emanating from Sougo’s palm, the Literature God recalls his first meeting with Mitsuki, which happens to be the only time he met him so far. It hadn’t been too long since his ascension in the Heavens, and one of his devotees had travelled to the Han Kingdom as a diplomatic representative for the newly named Ko Kingdom and had prayed to Sougo for advice on how to handle the upcoming discussion with the royal family well.

 

Iori had called him aside and informed him of the matter, and after offering some input of his own as the former member of one of Han’s noble families, Sougo descended into the mortal realm to oversee the matter. During his time in the Han Kingdom, he encountered a lingering spirit who attached itself to a noble woman, who turned out to be Iori’s mother without the woman knowing.

 

The spirit harboured no ill intentions, yet stubbornly refused to leave. “I still have to look after my parents,” the spirit insisted. “My little brother ascended a long time ago and my parents are growing old. No one is there for them.”

 

“Who is your little brother?” Sougo had asked.

 

The spirit’s expression was fond, but melancholic when he answered. “Iori.”

 

Iori confirmed it when Sougo returned to the Heavens not too long after - his older brother’s name is Mitsuki, who died just a year before Iori’s ascension. He explained, in a very subdued voice, that his brother had countless of dreams he wished to pursue, but to their parents’ ailing health, he chose to stay home and look after them, while Iori was sent to the castle to study. While he always looked out for his parents’ health, he neglected his. One day, Iori explained, Mitsuki fell sick and never recovered, eventually dying at the young age of 21.

 

Filled with regrets of never having the chance to fulfil the life he wanted, his spirit lingered on Earth as a ghost - something Sougo knew that Iori never wanted for his brother.

 

“Oh, isn’t that Sougo?”

 

Speak of the devil. Or in this case, the ghost.

 

Sougo smiles warmly as a figure approaches him. A young man with the same gentle eyes as Iori returns his smile. His form is more solid now since the first time Sougo saw him - ghosts with enough power can make themselves appear more corporeal for a certain period of time. Powerful ones like Yamato can even take on a corporeal form permanently.

 

“Mitsuki-san,” Sougo greets, “It’s been a while. I’m surprised you still remember me.”

 

Mitsuki laughs. “I don’t meet a lot of Gods, but when I do, I never forget a familiar face.” He pats Sougo on the shoulder. “I sensed a powerful spiritual presence at the entrance and got curious. I would have never guessed that I’ll bump into you of all people.” He grins. “What brings you here to the Underworld?”

 

“There’s something I need to discuss with you and Yamato-san.”

 

Mitsuki’s expression turns curious. “Me and the old man? What about?”

 

Sougo exhales softly. “Tamaki-san. The God of War.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despite its imposing name, the Underworld is really like a city if anything. If the Heavens is all beautiful palaces and spacious gardens with elegant looking individuals lounging about idly, the Underworld is a bustling community filled with countless of spirits running here and there going about their day. In fact, the first thing that Sougo sees when he steps into the Underworld is a busy market. A long road stretches out in front of him, each side lined with stalls selling various goods.

 

“You’ve come at the right time,” Mitsuki remarks cheerfully. “With the full moon coming up, the ghosts have been really excited and eager to do things. Lots of shops opened up, too, which is great because I need to stock up on things. Come to think of it,” he peers at Sougo, “Don’t the Gods have something else to look forward to, too,  in a week or so?”

 

Sougo nods. “Mmph. We have the Lantern Festival coming soon.”

 

“Ah, that. Well,” Mitsuki grins. “I’m sure the Han Kingdom will light up many lanterns for Iori. He’s pretty famous in the kingdom, you know.”

 

Sougo smiles. “I don’t doubt that.”

 

“How is he, by the way?” Mitsuki asks, his tone hopeful. “Ghosts and the Gods don’t mingle too often and I barely see him descending to visit his home. Is he busy up there?”

 

“He’s one of the more senior Gods, after all. So he has a lot more responsibilities,” Sougo explains. “But don’t worry. Your little brother is doing well.”

 

“Really? That’s good to hear,” Mitsuki answers, sounding relieved. The pair continue walking until Mitsuki points to a building up ahead. “That’s where Yamato-san is. Knowing the old man, he’s probably downing on liquor again.” He clicks his tongue. “Sometimes I wish spirits can’t actually eat so I won’t have to deal with a drunk friend all the time.”

 

Sougo says nothing, but an exasperated smile creeps onto his face. That does sound like Yamato.

 

The aforementioned building turns out to be a bar. With its dim lighting and simple decor, the establishment seems quite shabby, but there is soft music playing in the background and its lack of patrons makes the environment strangely cozy. A lone figure is sitting at one of the tables, in the middle of finishing his beer. When he spots Sougo and Mitsuki, he cocks one eyebrow.

 

“A ghost and a God walked into a bar,” he says, tone amused. “That’s a joke I have yet to hear.”

 

Mitsuki rolls his eyes. “Glad you’re so free that you’re drinking the night away again, Yamato-san.”

 

“You should be drinking, too, Mitsu. It helps soothe your spirit,” Yamato answers, before laughing at his own joke. His eyes land on Sougo, appraising him. “Literature God Sou. It’s been a while.”

 

Sougo nods in greeting. “Yamato-san. It’s been a while.”

 

“Got business in the mortal realm, or did you come to visit because you miss me?” Yamato teases.

 

“Actually,” Mitsuki cuts in, “He’s here to talk about Tamaki.”

 

Yamato, who has tipped the glass in his hand to drink the contents inside, pauses his movements. He puts his glass down, his expression sombering.

 

“Wow.” He lets out a low whistle. “That’s certainly a name I haven’t heard in a while.”

 

“I was under the impression that you and Mitsuki-san knew him for quite a while. Am I right?” Sougo asks.

 

Yamato shrugs. “Well, he’s been around for as long as I have. Like me, he’s much older than you, Sou. I’ve bumped into him from time to time. But that was a long time ago. It’s been some time since I’ve seen him. Is he still wearing that mask of his?”

 

Sougo nods. “Was there a time where he didn’t?”

 

Yamato smirks. “There was. But again, that was a long time ago. What about you, Mitsu? I know you knew him but I never knew the story behind it.”

 

Mitsuki crosses his arms. “We’re not exactly friends, but we did speak a few times. The first time I met him was not too long after my death. At the time, his influence spread into a small village in the Han Kingdom, which also happens to be nearby my former residence. When I still attached myself to my mother, I saw him descend into the mortal realm from time to time to see his devotees.” He furrows his brows, thinking hard. “He wasn’t much of a talker, though. But his personality was definitely much different than the one he had today.”

 

Sougo looks intrigued. “How so?”

 

“He’s more… how do you say… enthusiastic? About his job. But then again, he was known as something else then so -,”

 

“Mitsu,” Yamato warns, cutting him off.

 

“Right. Sorry. I nearly said I shouldn’t have,” Mitsuki says ruefully.

 

“What is it? Please forgive me for imposing, but I need to know,” Sougo nearly pleads.

 

Yamato and Mitsuki exchange a look.

 

“What do you plan on doing with the information if we tell you?” asks Yamato, “Is it just to fulfil your curiosity, or do you have an ulterior motive in mind?”

 

“Yamato-san, you know that Sougo isn’t that type of person,” Mitsuki protests.

 

Yamato shrugs. “My master didn’t seem like the person who had an ulterior motive. That’s the reason why I was so loyal to him.  But look where that led me now. “

 

Silence instantly follows. There is a distinctively uncomfortable look on Mitsuki’s face - Yamato’s past with his former master had always been an old thorn that refused to go away, hence why Yamato remained in the mortal realm as a ghost, unable to move on. It is a story that almost everyone knew but unwilling to bring up, to avoid risking Yamato’s wrath. To hear him bring it up so casually meant that Yamato is serious about the matter at hand.

 

“The old man has a point,” Mitsuki admits ruefully, “I’m sure that the folks up there must have told you something similar, right? That Tamaki doesn’t appreciate people trying to dig up his past, not after he spent so long trying to bury it. So, if you want to know because you have something in mind for that kind of information, I suggest you don’t try to find out.”

 

Sougo guessed that Tamaki is a powerful being, given how old he is, but to have even the Heavens to be wary of him and careful not to incur his wrath makes Sougo wonder just how much power does Tamaki possess.

 

Even so, he needs to know.

 

“I don’t have such intentions,” begins Sougo, “While I am admittedly curious, the main reason I want to know is because Tamaki-san seems really familiar to me.”

 

Yamato furrows his brows. “Familiar? Familiar how?”

 

“It’s like I’ve met him before. Which is strange because I’m sure I’ve never seen him before recently. But I can’t shake off that feeling. There’s something about him that makes me feel that this isn’t the first time we met. And…” Sougo hesitates.

 

“And?” Mitsuki prompts.

 

“He said something that bothered me,” Sougo hesitates, “He said that he doesn’t care so much about his devotees, yet something in my heart says that’s not always the case. Mitsuki-san said it too, didn’t you? That he used to be enthusiastic about his job. I feel that…” He looks down, biting his bottom lip. “I feel that that and his familiarity are connected somehow.”

 

There is another silence, and Mitsuki and Yamato exchange another glance with each other. Yamato then turns to regard Sougo wordlessly, appraising him carefully. Then, he lets out a sigh, before taking a sip of his beer.

 

“We can’t tell you everything because it’s not our place to tell,” he says, “But I suppose a little backstory on our old friend won’t hurt.”

 

“Yamato-san,” says Mitsuki, “Are you sure?”

 

Yamato shrugs. “If the kid gets angry with me, the worst he’ll do is shatter my soul. And I’ve had enough of living, anyway.”

 

Mitsuki scowls. “That’s not funny, Yamato-san.”

 

“Heh,” Yamato smirks, his gaze unreadable. He waves dismissively. “Mitsu, you know the story as well as I do. Why don’t you tell Sou?”

 

“Please,” Sougo adds, for good measure.

 

Mitsuki sighs exasperatedly. “You just want to avoid responsibility if Tamaki finds out. But fine.” He looks at Sougo, gesturing towards a chair. “You should probably sit down. It’s a long story.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A long time ago, there was once a small kingdom. Its size and influence were pale in comparison with other well-known kingdoms, but the people lived in harmony and the kingdom hardly encountered major problems. Due to its strategic geographic location, the kingdom had endless supply of whatever they needed, from water to food to gold, yet it was hidden away enough that the kingdom remained relatively low-key to others. While this made diplomatic relations admittedly difficult, the kingdom suffered little to no wars from other places. It was a fruitful compromise.

 

In this small kingdom lived a young priest. He was orphaned at a young age and was raised by nuns in a cathedral. He was raised with good values, so much that he treasured every good deed he received and never held on to any misfortune that befell on him. That meant he never held grudges, and was extremely forgiving. Some would call him a gullible fool, but his kindness was undeniable, and soon, he was well-liked by anyone who knew him.

 

His dreamt of bringing peace to the world, and that became his goal as soon as he was old enough to cultivate. He spent years cultivating his spiritual powers and continued helping others. At the age of 16, he became the kingdom’s priest and his kindness soon spread to other places. People from various kingdoms came to personally meet him in hopes to gain much needed help, and the priest never turned them down. Even when the people could offer nothing in return, he would offer them a smile and said he didn’t need a reward.

 

“I only hope that the help I give today can one day contribute towards the greater peace,” he would always say.

 

His kindness was so incredible that the Heavens took notice of him. Combined with his growing spiritual powers and his influence among the common people, the Heaven’s Emperor acknowledged his worth, and on the day of his 18th birthday, the young priest was chosen by the Heavens and ascended as a God.

 

Due to his immense kindness, he was named as the God of Peace; the first of his kind.

 

The God of Peace rapidly gained devotees from that day on, and his influence spread even to the furthest kingdom of the land. His holy statue could be seen almost everywhere, and his devotees prayed to him religiously, presenting him with plenty of offerings in return for his blessing. The God of Peace adored his devotees and was never tired of answering their prayers, no matter how small the problem they may be. He gave them both his wisdom and love, and in return, his devotees gave him their endless loyalty.

 

Just like his namesake, the God of Peace sought for peace and harmony, and for the longest of times, his goal was seemingly achieved. Wars were rare, and even the ones that happened resolved quickly and peacefully with very little bloodshed,  just as the God of Peace wanted. For the next couple of centuries, his influence was endless, and he was loved by many.

 

Until one day.

 

The God of Peace’s depiction began to change. His statues always depicted a gentle-looking young man, who held his hands clasped together as if praying. His smile was seen as warm, and despite being just a statue, the sight of him provided comfort to many.

 

But now, his statues no longer depicted a man with a gentle expression and kind eyes. Now, he was seen as a masked figure, his face half-covered and his lips pulled into a solemn line. There is a sword at his hip, and instead of praying, he now stands tall, gazing ahead with a seemingly hard expression. Gone was the comforting presence; now his statues could intimidate enemies upon sight.

 

The God of Peace was soon known by a new name; the God of War. And instead of peace, he brings destruction in his wake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The God of Peace…” Sougo murmurs, clasping his hands together on his lap. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that term before.”

 

“I’m not surprised you haven’t,” comments Yamato, “That name has not been uttered for centuries now. People probably forgot the very existence of Tamaki’s previous identity. “

 

“How did he change his identity? What changed people’s depiction of him?” asks Sougo. His mind is reeling from all the new information, and he’s not sure which one to think about more. “I...That still doesn’t answer why he seems so familiar to me…” he admits.

 

Mitsuki gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “We can’t tell you more, Sougo. I’m sorry. That part of his past is not our place to tell. But I have a feeling that your connection with him may lie in that part of the story.” He offers Sougo a rueful smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask him directly if you want to know.”

 

“Besides,” Yamato adds, “You said he’s been treating you well, didn’t you? Tama hardly ever interact with people, and aside from the two of us, I don’t think he’s had other friends. You must be pretty special to him.”

 

“I…” Sougo trails off.

 

“I can’t guarantee anything, but there is a chance that Tamaki might give you the answers you need. If it’s you, Sou, Tama might just open up,” says Yamato with a half smile.

 

Sougo hesitates. “I... I could try.”

 

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, Sougo,” says Mitsuki.

 

Sougo shakes his head. “No, both of you were a great help. Thank you for willing to tell me.” Sougo rises from his seat. “I should get going. The Heavens may be wondering where I am.”

 

“Aww, well, it’s a shame you can’t stay long,” answers Yamato. “We could have shared a drink or two.”

 

“Not everyone wants to deal with your drunken ass, old man,” chides Mitsuki, shaking his head. He turns to Sougo.  “Do you want me to escort you back?”

 

Sougo politely declines.

 

“If you’re sure,” Mitsuki gives him one last smile. “It’s nice to see you again, Sougo. Say hello to Iori for me, won’t you? Tell him his older brother misses him.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If Sougo has to be completely honest, his mind is still reeling from the story he was told. The story brought forth more questions that what Sougo originally had - the cause of change in Tamaki’s depiction by his devotees being the main one swimming in his head. There are so many possibilities and Sougo isn’t sure which one is more likely than the rest.

 

A change of a God’s depiction is a very rare occurrence, and the God in question usually only goes through changes in appearance and powers. To change the very name of a God requires a huge catalyst, and Sougo mentally starts listing all the possibilities.

 

He is so wrapped up his his thoughts that he loses awareness of his surroundings and only notices that he has gone the wrong way when he feels a shiver run up his spine and a chilling laughter ringing in his ear.

 

“Oh? Why is a God here?” giggles a disembodied voice. It sounds childlike and playful, yet it raises the hair at the back of Sougo’s neck.

 

“Why are you so far away from home, little God?” croons another voice. The air around Sougo grows noticeably colder, so much that it causes Sougo to shiver. The laughter continues to ring around him, echoing off the walls of the cave. Sougo is sure that this is the right cave he went through with Mitsuki, but the unfamiliar turns and passageways makes him wonder if he has taken a wrong turn along the way.

 

“This little God is so handsome,” says the first voice delightedly, “Hey, little God. Did it hurt? When you fell down from the Heavens?”

 

A thrill of laughter follows, and despite everything, Sougo feels himself flush. He continues moving forward, determined to ignore the voices around him. It must be the more mischievous ghosts - ones he hopes limit themselves to merely playing harmless tricks.

 

“Aw, why are you in such a hurry, little God? Come play with us some more.”

 

“Yeah, we’re lonely here in the Underworld. You’re in our home now so why not stay a little longer?”

 

Sougo mentally chants a mantra in his head in hopes to block out the voices completely, but the air around him is growing colder by the minute, seeping into his skin and making his frame tremble. He feels oddly fatigued, and belatedly realizes that he has been ignoring his own advice.

 

Remain inside the Underworld for too long, and a God will start losing their spiritual powers. Sougo had been too engrossed in listening to Mitsuki’s story that he must have miscalculated his time spent here, and the mischievous ghosts are taking advantage of this. Sougo curses himself for being so careless.

 

“Little God~ Don’t leave us,” croons the voices, “Come play. We have pretty girls here, too, you know. Hey, little God. Entertain us for a while~”

 

Sougo feels something wrap around his shoulders, and when he turns his head, he comes face to face with a girl’s face. The girl’s skin is translucent and has an extremely pale pallor. Her eyes are sunken and when she opens her mouth to smile seductively at Sougo, he sees that her gums are blackened and her tongue is split into two.

 

He nearly feels like throwing up.

 

“Little God, this person feels so lonely. You’ll stay with me, won’t you?” asks the ghost, caressing Sougo’s cheek. Her touch is extremely cold and Sougo feels himself weakening. Gritting his teeth, he forcefully pushes the ghost away, before gathering some spiritual powers onto his palm, creating a pale blue flame.

 

“Stay away!” he shouts.

 

There is an amused giggle. Another ghost appears beside Sougo; this time it is an older woman, with frizzy hair and one missing eye. There are blood stains on the front of her dress and Sougo’s eyes travel to the large gaping hole on her abdomen - one doesn’t need to guess how the woman died. A slow smile creeps onto her face. “Are you sure you want to do that? You’re needlessly wasting energy, little God.”

 

Sougo sets his jaw. The ghost is right. He’s been in the Underworld for too long and his body is beginning to suffer from the side effects. Even maintaining the flame on his palm is tiring and his hand is already shaking from the effort.

 

“Stay back,” he says again, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

There is a loud laughter. “Are you sure the Heavens will allow you to do that, little God? You have so many rules up there, don’t you?” asks one of the ghosts mockingly, “I’d hate to see you being punished for breaking a rule.”

 

“Oh, but sister, if he breaks a rule, he’d have to descend down to the mortal realm,” the other ghost points out, “Then we can bring him home permanently.”

 

A shiver runs down Sougo’s spine. He doesn’t need to guess what that could possibly entail.

 

He is about to rebuff them again when his throat suddenly constricts, before he coughs loudly. He begins to feel dizzy, and his vision is blurring at the edges. The flame on his palm is noticeably weakening, flickering in the dimness of the cave. When Sougo stumbles to his knees, strength leaving his body, the two ghosts cackle.

 

“Little God, rest for a while! Rest, rest!”

 

“We’ll take good care of you!”

 

“Get back -,” Sougo chokes out before he collapses to his side, letting out a series of coughs. He absently remembers reading somewhere that in certain parts of the Underworld, the air can be potentially toxic to other spiritual beings, and fatal to human beings. He wonders if this is the case for him as his spiritual powers is seeping rapidly out from his body. It gets harder to breathe, and he’s so cold, and his vision is darkening -

 

He’s not gonna die, is he? Not when he still has so much to find out. Still has so much to see. Still -

 

A name and a face suddenly flashes in his mind. As he feels the ghosts closing in on him, his lips move, but he could barely hear his own voice.

 

There is a sudden shriek.

 

“What are _you_ doing here?” screams one of the ghost. “You-!!”

 

“Sister! Be careful! He’s -,”

 

“Leave,” a low voice growls out. Distantly, Sougo thinks he has heard that voice before. Through his darkening blurry vision, he could make out a figure standing in front of him, blocking him from the ghosts’ view. The figure is dressed in all black, and a shift of movement allows Sougo to catch a glint of silver from the figure’s side. A sword.

 

When the figure turns to him, the first thing Sougo notices is the mask covering half of his face.

 

“Ta...ma….” Sougo barely manages to choke out his name before he feels his consciousness leaving him. The last thing he hears is another growled out threat, followed by a brief silence, then the soft utter of Sougo’s name.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sougo wakes up to the faint smell of spice.

 

He blearily opens his eyes, and the first thing he sees is blue strands of hair. He has his arms loosely wrapped around a pair of broad shoulders, while his legs are held in place at the side of a person’s waist by strong arms. He hears the soft clinking of the chains hanging from a sword’s hilt.

 

“Tamaki-san…?” he calls out softly, his voice still hoarse. His body still feels weak, but he could feel his powers steadily returning to him, albeit a little slowly. He notices the trees around them, and finds out that Tamaki is holding him in a piggyback as he trudges through the forest in silence.

 

“Hm. Your Highness, you’re awake,” Tamaki replies softly, turning towards him slightly. He still has his mask on, making it hard for Sougo to guess his expression.

 

“What ...happened?”

 

“You were cornered by malicious ghosts on your way back from the Underworld,” replies Tamaki, “I happened to be nearby and sensed a rapid decrease in a God’s spiritual powers. I got…” A pause. “Curious.”

 

In spite of everything, Sougo smiles. “You weren’t worried?”

 

He only gets silence as a reply.

 

“Where are we going?” Sougo asks, “And. Um. You don’t have to carry me like this, Tamaki-san,” he adds, suddenly embarrassed. “I can -,”

 

“I can sense your powers and they’re still weak,” Tamaki interrupts, “Don’t be stubborn, Your Highness, and let me help you. And to answer your question, we’re going to the nearest temple to access the Heaven’s entrance. Iorin’s temple shouldn’t be too far from here.”

 

Sougo smiles again. He doubts Iori would appreciate the nickname. “Why not just use a teleportation spell?”

 

Tamaki is quiet for a moment and Sougo thinks he isn’t going to answer him, until Tamaki opens his mouth to speak again.  “I couldn’t risk hurting you. I wasn’t sure if your body could handle the spell in its current state.”

 

That unexpectedly makes Sougo’s heart skip a beat. He feels warm all over, oddly pleased by Tamaki’s words. Heat rises up to his cheeks as he realizes the implication behind his current emotions, and he hurriedly buries his face against Tamaki’s shoulder.

 

“Your Highness?”

 

“I’m tired,” Sougo mumbles out hastily, “Tell me when we’ve arrived.” His cheeks feel really hot, and his heart is beating is so loudly that he fears Tamaki would notice. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will his heart to calm down.

 

“Alright, Your Highness,” answers Tamaki, “Rest well.”

 

Ironically, the one thing that ends up calming down Sougo’s heart is the smell of spice emanating from Tamaki, as well as the familiar warmth of his body heat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Iori ends up greeting the pair at the Heavens’ Gate, looking less than amused. In a steely voice, he instructs Tamaki to take Sougo to Sougo’s residence in the Heavens, where he is to be confined in bed for at least a few days. Sougo distantly hears Iori calling for Riku as Tamaki walks away, still carrying Sougo.

 

Sougo’s residence is a reminiscent of his old palace bedroom in the mortal realm, save for a few details.  Despite Sougo’s protest, Tamaki continues to carry him, before placing him carefully on his bed. He gently pushes him into a lying position, before moving to take off Sougo’s boots.

 

Sougo squawks in surprise when he realizes what Tamaki is trying to do.

 

“I-I can do that myself, Tamaki-san!” he stutters, sitting up. Why is a senior God taking off his boots for him like a lowly servant? How unsightly! “Please, let me…” he protests quickly.

 

Tamaki pays him no heed, only pushing him back down onto the mattress before continuing to take off Sougo’s boots. “It’s fine, Your Highness. Just rest.”

 

Sougo could only cover his face in embarrassment.

 

There is a knock on the door. “Sougo-san?” Iori drifts in. “Just letting you know that Riku-san is on his way to check on you.”

 

“Um, okay!” Sougo notes. When he turns back to Tamaki, he notices the way the latter’s jaw is clenched. Even without seeing his full expression, Sougo could sense the tenseness radiating off the God.

 

“Tamaki-san…? Are you okay?” he asks carefully.

 

“I’m okay, Your Highness. No need to concern yourself,” Tamaki answers smoothly. “I should get going before the God of Health arrives.”

 

Sougo raises his eyebrow. “Why? You won’t be a bother if you stay.”

 

The corner of Tamaki’s lips lift into a reminiscent of a smile. “Perhaps not, but I won’t be of help, either. And besides, I prefer not to mingle with other Gods, remember?”  He bows briefly. “Well, rest well, Your Highness.”

 

Before Sougo could protest further, Tamaki opens the window, and jumps through it. Just as Sougo hears the soft thud of landing, the doorknob twists again, and Riku pokes his head in.

 

“Sougo-san! I’ve come to check on your health!” Riku remarks cheerfully. He turns and notices the open window. “Hm? Why did you leave the window open? That’s no good, Sougo-san. You’ll get cold.”

 

Sougo says nothing as Riku closes the window. There is still a hint of the scent of spice in the room, especially at the spot Tamaki previously stood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sougo dreams of dull, muted colors. He dreams of being in a small, dusty temple tucked away in a forest overlooking his kingdom.

 

He sees a small deity statue. He hears a voice, and belatedly realizes it is his own.

 

“I pray that you’ll be granted happiness, lord deity,” he hears himself say.

 

Just before he wakes up, he catches a glimpse of black and gold, and hears the soft utter of his name.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Heavens is lively loday, which is given since the Lantern Festival is the day after tomorrow. Sougo is sitting alone in the Archives again, sorting through his prayer documents. Gods are temporarily relieved from their duties during the Lantern Festival so all of them could spend time at the Heavens during the holiday to observe their respective devotees, so Sougo decides to finish the last of his work quickly so he could retire early and prepare for the Lantern Festival.

 

He arranges his prayer documents in neat piles according to the devotees’ respective areas, and as usual, the one for the Ko Kingdom has the most amount of documents. Sougo is highly revered at his kingdom, given that it was his place of birth and ascension, so it’s no surprise for Sougo to see the pile growing higher by the minute. He notes with disappointment when he still can’t find his father’s name among the documents, but the feeling is distant now - he could learn to ignore it if he wishes to.

 

He smiles softly. He finds two from his mother - one from yesterday, and one from today. His mother, though as distant as his father due to the nature of the royal family upbringing, at least tries to show that she still remembers him. Sougo makes a mental note to go visit her in a dream someday. Maybe, even see his father, if he allows him to.

 

“Sougo-san?”

 

Iori’s voice snaps him out of his reverie. Sougo lifts his head to see Iori looking at him. The God has his own share of documents in his hands, though Sougo recognizes from the different colored files used to sort the documents that Iori is not only holding his own things.

 

“Iori-kun,” he greets, “Do you need help with those?”

 

Iori nods. “Please. If it’s not too much trouble. Some of the Gods have their hands tied up with some last minute issues and couldn’t finish sorting these. Normally I’d do it, but the Heaven’s Emperor is calling me to discuss a few things for the festival.” He flashes Sougo a rueful look. “When you’re done with your own, can you please sort these documents? I’ve already arranged them according to their respective God so just arrange them according to their area of influence.”

 

Sougo nods, already taking the documents from Iori’s hands. “I’m just about done with mine, anyway, so I’ll help.”

 

“I’m sorry, Sougo-san. I’m sure you would’ve liked some free time to prepare for the festival tomorrow.”

 

Sougo shakes his head. “I’ll do it later. It’s not a problem.”

 

Iori offers another apologetic smile. “Thank you, Sougo-san. I’ll lighten your workload after the festival as thanks.” He bows before turning on his heels and exits in the room, leaving Sougo by himself again.

 

“Well,” says Sougo to no one in particular, “I might as well get started.”

 

He begins to sort them quietly, aiming to finish his work as fast and efficient as he could. He sees familiar names; Riku, Nagi, Ryuunosuke and even the grumpy Thunder God Gaku whose temper reflects his name but has one of the gentlest heart Sougo knows. Ryuunosuke’s pile, to no one’s surprise, is the highest among the other Gods’ prayer documents he sorted, Sougo notes with amusement. This is followed closely by Nagi. Riku has his own respectable share of documents, despite being a fairly new God, and Sougo’s heart twinges just a bit when his older twin brother’s name came out the most among the list of devotees he sorted through.

 

Tenn prayed for Riku every day, and Sougo couldn’t help but to envy Riku for this - to receive such faithful devotion is considered a blessing even among Gods. But the fact also makes Sougo’s heart heavy, knowing that all and all, Riku still died at a young age, and his brother probably misses him just as much as Riku misses him.

 

He sighs. Sometimes, Sougo guesses that he is lucky that he has no lingering attachment with his mortal family. It hurts less on a lot of days.

 

As he continues his work, he catches sight of another pile of documents that he hasn’t attended to.

 

“Huh,” Sougo mutters to himself. “How did I miss those?”

 

He reaches out to grab them, and when he sees the name written on top of the first document, his eyes widen in surprise.

 

Those documents belong to Tamaki.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His hand shakes when he reaches for the documents. Sougo doesn’t know why he’s so nervous.

 

When he studies one of the documents, sure enough, Tamaki’s name, along with his title, is printed on one corner of the file, above a devotee’s name. The file in his hands belongs to a devotee from the Eastern borders, and coincidentally that is also a place known for its unstable peace. War is nothing new there; something which Sougo overheard Martial Gods complain about if they were forced to solve the same issue over and over again. It really is no surprise that Tamaki’s influence would spread there, given his position.

 

However, he remembers Mitsuki and Yamato’s story - how Tamaki had been known as the God of Peace once - and an old question comes to mind once more.

 

What happened in the past that changed Tamaki’s devotees’ depiction of him?

 

As he studies the rest of the documents, all the while sorting them, one of the devotees’ recorded place of origin catches his eye. It is the name of a kingdom renown for its immense military strength, located somewhere in the Northern borders. Sougo realizes he recognizes the name, and for two main reasons.

 

One: It is the name of one of Ko Kingdom’s neighbouring kingdoms, and the two kingdoms once shared a very animoustic relationship with each other.

 

Two: When he was a mortal, Sougo had once led a way against this kingdom and came out victorious despite the fact that the odds had once been against them.

 

Sougo’s head is still spinning from the revelation when he notices another place that seems familiar to him on another document. Then, another. And another. As he sits on the floor with the documents spread in front of him, he realizes that the places where Tamaki’s influence lie were once powerful kingdoms Sougo had fought against in wars when he was a mortal. The wars which his strategies helped his own kingdom came out victorious.

 

It is too much of a coincidence, and it sends Sougo’s mind reeling. But something doesn’t add up. If these kingdoms had been under Tamaki’s influence before Sougo’s ascension, why did they suffer a great loss? Tamaki’s powers would always ensure victories in war; that was his namesake, after all. His purpose. There are only two possibilities which comes to mind.

 

First, Tamaki did not fulfill their prayers. If a God deems a prayer not worth fulfilling, they can choose not to. It’s as simple as that.

 

Second, those kingdoms were not under Tamaki’s influence at the time. Sougo ascended a fairly long while ago so this idea might not be completely impossible.

 

With shaky hands, he reaches out to flip through one of the documents to make sure.

 

It turns out that it was in fact, the second possibility. The dates recorded in the document was after Sougo’s ascension, so it made sense that these kingdoms rarely suffered losses after that. Of course, their defeat to Sougo’s kingdom also led to the formation of diplomatic ties, so the opposite sides no longer went at war with each other. But against other territories, these kingdoms were unbeatable, thanks to Tamaki’s blessings.

 

As he skims through the document, a sentence catches his attention.

 

_Please, God of War. Destroy that kingdom. For the sake of peace._

 

That prayer doesn’t sit right with Sougo. He continues reading down the list in curiosity, but it only gets worse from there.

 

_God of War, our kingdom is planning to take over the Han territory soon. Please lead us to victory._

 

_God of War, our attempts were not victorious today. Were our devotion not enough? Please help us. For peace._

 

_God of War, we had a close victory today but it is not enough. God of War, please don’t misunderstand. We are not killing the innocents. We are fighting for our rights, and if they stand in our way, they deserve it._

 

_Please. For the sake of peace. God of War, we will spill as much blood as we need. Send us your blessings so we can emerge victorious once again!_

 

These...prayers, makes Sougo sick to the stomach. What disgusting wishes! It is no wonder Tamaki is choosing to ignore them, but the devotee is a relentless one because as he reads, the lists continues to grow longer by the second with new wishes being constantly added. He forcefully snaps the file shut before he reads more.

 

He eyes the rest of the documents. Surely that’s just a one time thing, right? These documents surely contained better prayers. Right?

 

_“Nagi-san is right. He always carry the scent of blood around him.”_

 

Iori’s voice rings in his head, and Sougo swallows thickly. He takes another document and flips to the prayer list.

 

It is just as bad as the previous ones; perhaps even worse.

 

The prayers are all wishing for victories in war, yet their methods and ambitions are questionable at best and downright cruel at worst. He reads another document to find the same sort of prayers. Then another. And then, another.

 

By the time he finishes reading all of Tamaki’s documents, Sougo feels sick to the stomach and there is a lump in his throat.

 

What horrible, cruel wishes! To think that Tamaki has to face this perhaps almost every day since his depiction as the God of War -

 

_“I no longer care for such things.”_

 

Tamaki’s remark about his devotees suddenly make so much sense. He grips the file in his hand. He has a feeling that his sense of familiarity towards him has something to do with it, too, considering that the kingdoms under his influence were all the ones Sougo’s kingdom had won in war against, despite their differences in power.

 

He sets his jaw.

 

He needs to find Tamaki. He needs answers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tamaki is where Sougo guesses he might be - under the apple tree in the Heavens’ garden. He stands straights with his hands behind his back, looking up at the tree as if thinking about something. He lowers his head when he hears Sougo approach, and though his mask hides most of his expression, Sougo could sense the sombreness of his mood from  the thin line of his lips.

 

“Your Highness,” he greets.

 

Sougo decides to cut to the chase. Considering that Tamaki is just conveniently where he would find him the easiest, as if he had been waiting for him, Sougo guesses that he knew what is on his mind. Sougo prides himself for being able to hide his emotions fairly well, but Tamaki is more observant than people give him credit for, given that he has lived much longer than most, so Sougo decides it’s best not to beat around the bush.

 

“Tamaki-san, I’ll ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly,” begins Sougo.

 

“I am always honest to you, Your Highness,” Tamaki answers easily.

 

Sougo takes a deep breath, before exhaling with a shudder.

 

“Before you were known as the God of War, did you once go by the name of the God of Peace?”

 

It takes a short moment before Tamaki replies. Just before he does, Sougo sees the thin line of his lips morph into a small smile.

 

“I see that Yama-san and Mikki told you, huh?” he asks simply. There is no hint of anger in his tone, but Sougo would rather not risk it.

 

“I insisted! It’s not their fault,” he quickly replies, before pausing. In a small voice, he asks again. “So… it’s true, then?”

 

Tamaki shrugs. “It’s a name I haven’t gone by in years, but yes, many centuries ago, that had been my original title.”

 

Sougo pushes forward. “Then, what happened? What changed? I-I…” He hesitates. He drops his gaze, suddenly ashamed. “I have something to tell you first.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“I…” Sougo squeezes his eyes shut, his cheeks flushing with shame. “I was sorting through your documents earlier and I…. Forgive me, but I got too curious and I...I read your prayer lists. They were -,”

 

“Horrible, aren’t they?” Tamaki finishes. Sougo lifts his head, his eyes snapping open in surprise. He watches in shocked silence when Tamaki suddenly reaches up and grabs the front of his mask.

 

With one smooth gesture, Tamaki takes off his mask. Sougo could barely stop the gasp that escapes his lips.

 

Only one of his eyes is open, which shone gold in the light. His other one is closed, possibly permanently so, by the ragged angry lines marking the skin.

 

“Tamaki-,”

 

“Your Highness,” Tamaki says smoothly, “It seems that I owe you a story continuation.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Centuries ago, people revered the God of Peace. In return, Tamaki cherishes every one of his devotees and tries his hardest to grant their wishes. Be it big or small. In the Heavens, he looked forward to the Lantern Festival; not because of the playful competition that the Gods held among themselves, though he won his share, but the fact that his devotees would pray to him more earnestly than before and if there was anything that Tamaki treasured, it was sincere prayers.

 

Seeing the sky light up with lanterns filled with his devotees prayers never failed to make him happy.

 

One day, Tamaki receives a peculiar wish.

 

_God of Peace…. My kingdom is at war with another territory. If we lose, our people would suffer. Please grant us victory, to ensure the peace of the lands._

 

While Tamaki was no stranger to wars, prayers regarding them were always worded differently. Rather than straightforwardly asking for victory, the prayers usually ask for the protection of the people so they won’t be too affected by the war. To reunite families. To look after the weak.

 

It had been a new kind of wish, but it was a wish for peace all the same, so how could Tamaki not grant it? He gave the devotee his blessings, and sure enough, the kingdom won its war and the people prospered.

 

And then, similar wishes started pouring in. Wishes for victories in war, no matter how odd the chances were. Prayers for an advantage in battles. Prayers for an enemy’s defeat. Tamaki granted them all, because all of these different prayers promised one thing.

 

Peace.

 

Soon, more often than not, Tamaki’s duties no longer centered around ensuring or restoring harmony, but rather ensuring victories in battles. Some wars were more ruthless than the other, and Tamaki watched with his very own eyes the lives that were loss, and the blood that were spilled.

 

Yet, his devotees promised him peace, and Tamaki desperately clung to that promise as he continued to grant his devotees’ prayers. He treasured their loyalty, and he wanted to repay them. He was doing the right thing.

 

Surely.

 

Eventually, as the years passed, the stories revolving around him changed, and soon he was no longer the God who ensured peace, but rather the God who fought wars, destroying anything that came across his path to victory.

 

Lantern Festivals soon became unbearable to attend - how does one feel seeing the sky lit up by lanterns filled with nothing but wishes of bloodlust?

 

One day, the intensity of his devotees’ prayers brought Tamaki to the edge, finally causing his first corruption.

 

“That was when my devotees meant less and less to me,” Tamaki murmurs quietly to a shell-shocked Sougo. “I didn’t hear their wishes for peace; I heard their desire for murder, and like a fool I was, I obeyed.”

 

The Heaven’s Emperor finally gave him a verdict many years later, when it became more and more apparent that the corruption was consuming Tamaki’s soul.

 

He was to descend to the mortal realm to recuperate, with his spiritual powers temporarily stripped, and for a certain period of time, he will live his life as a minor deity, only able to observe but not able to grant any prayers.

 

Any future Gods ascending for their strength in battles and war, from that day forward, will also never inherit Tamaki’s title as the God of War. They will be known as Martial Gods, and they will never be allowed to directly involve themselves in the outcome of a war, only aiding in battles when necessarily. This was to avoid any possible future corruptions from the side effects of wishes with so much killing intent.

 

Tamaki lived out a number of years in the mortal realm - being stripped of his powers, he was also stripped from his devotees, and they had their memories of Tamaki’s existence erased. People began to worship newly ascended Martial Gods instead, and as Tamaki watched from the distance, his heart grew heavy with envy, eventually darkening with jealousy and frustration.

 

Despite the Heaven’s Emperor wishes for Tamaki to recover, his corruption grew worse, and one day, in a fit of fury, he clawed his own eye to the extent of blinding it. As he sat bleeding and half-blind on the floor of a dusty, desolate temple - one that the Heavens granted him as his temporary home -, feeling more alone than ever and angry at his own failures as a God, he heard soft footsteps.

 

“What a beautiful temple.” says a childlike voice. “There’s a deity statue, too! How come I never realized this?”

 

Tamaki watched in silence as a little boy - probably no older than 10 - approached his tiny deity statue on the altar. From his elegant robes and the familiar jade necklace around his neck, Tamaki guessed that the boy must be none other than the Crown Prince of the kingdom his temple was located. Throughout his years as a minor deity, this was the first time Tamaki properly saw a member of the royal family.

 

The little boy studied his statue for a moment, before he frowned. “Who did this to your eye?” he wondered, tracing the line across the statue’s right eye - the same one Tamaki blinded just a moment ago. “Such cruelty towards a deity…”

 

Unseen to the little boy, Tamaki smiled hollowly. If only he knew.

 

The boy reaches inside his robe and pulls out a black mask, lined with gold trimmings. He placed it on the statue’s face, covering its eyes. The little boy stood back to admire his work. “There,” he said, sounding satisfied, “It’s my mask! It’s yours now, though. I’m giving it to you. If you wish to hide your face, lord deity, at least this mask still makes your appearance to be admired. N-not that I think your appearance was ugly or anything!” The little boy added quickly. “It’s unfortunate about your eye, and I know how mean people can be. Even towards a God, they can…” He trailed off.

 

Tamaki watched in silence when the little boy suddenly reached out to touch the statue’s cheek.

 

“Lord deity,” whispered the little boy, “Hidden away in such a lonely temple, and to have someone disfigure you… I’m so sorry. You must be lonely.” There was sorrow on his young face. “I pray that you’ll be granted happiness, lord deity. I hope one day you will be placed in a more beautiful temple, surrounded by loving and loyal devotees and that your future days will be filled with nothing but good fortune and blessing.”

 

Tamaki could only gape at his words. This child…

 

Before he realized it, there were tears running down his cheeks. That had been the first comfort he received in years.

 

No.

 

In centuries.

 

From a child who couldn’t even see him yet could somehow sense his sadness.

 

“Your Highness!” a new voice called out. “Argh, where could His Highness Sougo be…?”

 

Sougo. The Crown Prince’s name was Sougo.

 

“I’m here!” Sougo replied. A guard entered the temple, his face frantic. “Your Highness! Please don’t disappear so suddenly,” he pleaded.

 

Sougo pointed to the deity’s statue. “Do you know which deity is this?”

 

The guard blinked at the sudden question, before looking at the deity in question, his brows furrowing. “I’m afraid I do not know, Your Highness. Must be a minor deity, since it’s in such a small and isolated temple. And is that your ceremonial mask, I see? What is it doing there?”

 

“Leave it,” Sougo ordered, “I put it there. I’m giving it as a gift to the deity.”

 

The guard looked appalled. “Y-Your Highness!”

 

“It can be replaced easily,” Sougo replied dismissively, “A deity’s dignity is more important than a simple mask.”

 

The guard didn’t say anything else. “In any case, Your Highness, we need to go. Your parents….”

 

“I know, I know. Lead the way, then.”

 

“Y-yes!”

 

Tamaki watched the pair leave, waiting until the boy was well out of sight before he turned back to his deity statue. He reached out and took the mask in his hands.

 

With an unreadable expression, he put the mask on.

 

For the first time in a long time, Tamaki felt… light.

 

He gained a new resolution that day, and returned to the Heavens on the same day to formally ask the Heaven’s Emperor for his title and powers back.

 

Before he continued to his duties as the God of War, he wished to serve one person first.

 

The young Crown Prince of the Northern Kingdom, Sougo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’ve watched over you since then,” says Tamaki, “From when you were a child right up til your ascension, I’ve served no one but you.”

 

Sougo’s mind is reeling from Tamaki’s words. “Those wars…The ones that my kingdom won against despite the odds, ” he whispers, looking at Tamaki, “Were they all your doing?”

 

“I lended my powers when necessary, but Your Highness, it was without a doubt that your strategies were the main cause behind those victories,” Tamaki assured, “I helped wherever I could, but the main reason was definitely you. Your Highness, those victories came from your abilities, too. I’ve always believed that it will someday lead to your ascension, so I waited. And here you are, just as I thought you will be.”

 

Sougo’s gaze lands on the mask in Tamaki’s hand. “That had been mine all along… I… “ He laughs softly in disbelief. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize it. But now I know why…” He looks at Tamaki. “Now I know why you seemed familiar to me when we first met. We… we met before. A long time ago. In a way.”  


Tamaki nods. “You may not remember it, but that encounter changed my life. I am grateful to you, Your Highness.”

 

“You said you expected my ascension because of my abilities,” says Sougo, “But Literature Gods are nothing uncommon. My abilities could have been easily surpassed by anyone and even if that wasn’t the case, to be noticed by the Heavens depends on one’s luck, too.” He looks at Tamaki carefully, as if searching his expression. “What if I never ascended? What if I remained a mortal, just like what I originally wanted? What then?”

 

“Then, I’ll serve you throughout your mortal life,” Tamaki answers easily.

 

Sougo couldn’t help but to laugh in exasperation. “A God couldn’t just serve one mortal for the rest of their life, Tamaki-san. A God isn’t allowed to have favoritism, you know.”

 

“There won’t be any favoritism, “ Tamaki insists, “Because I wouldn’t have any other devotees to compare you  to. Before your ascension, even though my powers returned, I did not have any devotees. As I waited for your eventual ascension, I deliberately did not spread my influence elsewhere.”

 

“Why would you do that?” Sougo demands, “Without devotees, without a purpose, you will eventually lose your powers. You’ll lose your Godhood. What then?”

 

Tamaki reaches out to take Sougo’s hands. Though surprised by the sudden contact, Sougo lets Tamaki hold his hands, and fights to hold back the flush that threatens to stain his cheeks. “If I turn back into a mortal, I wouldn’t have minded. Your Highness, don’t you understand?”

 

Tamaki’s gaze is intense as he looks into Sougo’s eyes. “That day, you gave me the first comfort I had in centuries. You _saved_ me. I do not need anyone else’s devotion, because I was already happy to give mine to you.”

 

Sougo is struck speechless.

 

“You…” he tries, before heat rises up his face and he quickly turns away as his cheeks reddens. His heart thumps loudly in his chest, and he feels a sudden surge of emotion that he couldn’t name; it makes him both warm and electrified all over.

 

He thinks -

 

He thinks he’s a little bit in love.

 

“That is such an intense thing to say,” Sougo finally says with a breathy laugh, still feeling lightheaded. “I don’t know what to say back.”

 

Tamaki smiles, and Sougo belatedly realizes how handsome he is - he has the youthfulness of a teenager still, his features sharp and rough around the edges, but there is a softness in the way he holds his expression when he looks at Sougo. Sougo thinks he sees something like hope dancing in Tamaki’s eyes.

 

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m just happy that I could finally say what I wanted to say,” Tamaki replies.

 

“There is one more thing I’m wondering about, though,” Sougo adds.

 

“What is it?”

 

The edges of Sougo’s smile softens as he hesitates on the question hanging on the tip of his tongue. “Do you truly not care about your devotees? The fact that you’re still a God now, and to have someone still praying to you, means that you don’t entirely hate being a God…. right?”

 

“I stayed as a God primarily just so I could be by your side,” Tamaki admits readily, which serves only to deepen Sougo’s flush at his honesty, “But even if I descended back as a mortal, I wouldn’t have minded because I was ready to devote myself to you. I guess…” Tamaki hesitates. “You’re not entirely wrong. My feelings towards my devotees are still complicated at best, and I haven’t made any effort to expand my influence anywhere else other than where is necessary. I disappear during the Lantern Festival because I don’t want to hear any of my devotees’ prayers more than I already have to….but…”

 

“But?” Sougo prompts.

 

“I became a God because I wanted to bring peace to the people. Occasionally, there may be a devotee whose prayers resound with that wish, and with the right ideals, too. Those who earnestly wish for peace not for power or influence, but for the sake of the lives of the people around them… sometimes, I do receive those prayers,” Tamaki confesses, “I remained as a God so I could continuously grant such wishes. To carry out my original purpose, one way or another.”

 

“Tamaki-san…” Sougo interlaces his fingers with Tamaki. “Perhaps one day, those wishes will come in more frequently, and that your sole purpose as a God will finally come true.”

 

Tamaki’s smile widens. “Well, that is a nice wish. But I’m not in a hurry.”

 

Sougo raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

 

“As long as I can remain by your side, Your Highness, I can endure such hardship for a long time to come,” Tamaki answers earnestly.

 

Once again, Sougo is rendered speechless.

 

He has a feeling that as long as he’s with Tamaki who has become more honest with him, that’s going to become a habit.

 

Not knowing what else to say, Sougo smacks Tamaki on the arm. The God of War merely laughs.

 

Like everything else about Tamaki, Sougo commits his laughter to memory.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Lantern Festival carries on without a hitch. Though the Gods were surprised that Tamaki chose to attend this year, with Sougo by his side no less, the celebrations went on as normal and some Gods even made an attempt of a conversation with Tamaki. Among them was Riku, who was excited to meet him, but Sougo couldn’t help but to notice something off about the young God. As if there is something in his mind.

 

Before he could ask about it, the Heavens’ gong makes a loud reverberating sound, which signals one thing.  It is time to count the tribute lanterns.

 

As usual, the Gods wait with bated breath to see the results - who had the most tributes among all the Gods these year and would win the ultimate prize of having their wish granted by the Heaven’s Emperor. They watch the lanterns - a symbol of their devotees’ tributes to them - float up into the sky, counting for each God.

 

Sougo ends up with 800 lanterns, the second highest number of tributes this year. The majority of them came from his former kingdom, and as Sougo watches them float up into the sky, he notices a name on one of them. His eyes widen in surprise when he realizes whose name it belongs to.

 

It was his father’s. His first prayer ever to Sougo.

 

Sougo dazedly reaches out for it, and takes it into his hands. With shaking hands, he reaches inside the glowing lantern, and searches for the prayer paper inside of it. He takes it out, and after exhaling with a shudder, he unfolds the paper.

 

_You did well, my son._

 

It isn’t an apology - far from it. Sougo feels as if his father would never apologize to him even after wronging him, but this is expected because he knows his father’s pride. He knows his personality.

 

It isn’t an apology and never will be, but tears starts to trail down his cheeks regardless, because Sougo feels so happy, and so, so _relieved_. Beside hm, Tamaki quietly takes his hand into his own, and pulls Sougo close.

 

“I’m glad,” he murmurs into Sougo’s ear.

 

Sougo nods, and continues to cry silently, still holding his father’s prayer close to his heart.

 

The winner ends up being Riku once more with 10 more lanterns than Sougo’s own. He accepts the news with a strangely subdued smile, and Sougo, along with the rest of the Gods, finds out the reason behind such a reaction when Riku kneels in front of the Heaven’s Emperor, and speaks out his wish.

 

“I wish to erase my attachment to my family, and their attachment to me.”

 

This wish implies many things, but the greatest one of them all is the possible erasure of all their memories regarding Riku. The greater the attachment is, the more drastic the effects. Riku is known to be really close to his mortal family and his family still treasure him to this day, so this wish could not only just erase their memories, but also erase Riku’s existence from their family tree.

 

Tenn would wake up one day thinking that he never had a brother. Riku will live his life never remembering his mortal life.

 

“No, Riku!” Nagi protests with a cry, “Don’t you know what that may do to you? And your family?”

 

Riku gives him a sad smile. “It’s something I’ve thought of for a fairly long time. I.. Being attached to your mortal life is already improper as a God, but more importantly…” He bites his bottom lip. “I don’t want to see Tenn-nii suffer. I don’t want him to live out his life thinking he could have saved me if he tried harder. If he ascended first. Or if he prayed hard enough. I’ve read his prayers, and while he tried to keep them as positive as possible, his underlying regrets are impossible to ignore.”

 

Riku turns to face the Heaven’s Emperor, who stares back at him impassively. “Heaven’s Emperor, I am certain of my wish,” he says resolutely, “As the winner of this year’s Lantern Festival, I ask that you honor this humble request, for I ask for nothing else.”

 

The Heavens is quiet as the Gods wait for the Emperor’s response. Sougo leans against Tamaki, peering at Riku worriedly. Not too far away, he sees Iori giving Riku a complicated look.

 

“Very well,” rumbles the Emperor and Sougo could hear another protest from Nagi. “Riku, God of Health. As the winner of the Lantern Festival, your wish shall be granted. When you wake up tomorrow, you will not remember your past life. Your family will also not remember your existence, and they will see the God of Health as  another deity, rather than their former son.”

 

Riku bows. His bangs hide his eyes, so Sougo cannot guess his expression. “Thank you, Heaven’s Emperor.”

 

“However,” adds the Emperor. His serious expression gains a new softness to it as he regards Riku. “You’ve been an exceptional God, despite your youth, and your wish feels like a punishment rather than a request. I do not like to needlessly punish those who do not deserve it, but I also keep my promises. Thus.”

 

He rises from his throne, and the rest of the Gods wait with bated breath for his next words.

 

“I am limiting your service as a God until the next few centuries, and when the time comes, your soul will return to the mortal world, and will wait for the time to be reincarnated into a new life.” There is a hint of a smile on the Emperor’s face. “While you will not gain memories of your past life as a God, one day, I will reunite you with your family. You and your brother will meet again. I can assure that.”

 

There is a soft gasp from the crowd, which sounds suspiciously like Nagi’s again, before the crowd breaks into a cheer.

 

“Reincarnation is so rare for a God! Riku-san, you’re so lucky!”

 

“Cheers for the God’s beloved child!”

 

“Riku,” Nagi sobs, “I’m so happy for you!”

 

Sougo continues to observe from afar, watching Riku continuing to bow. There is a smile on his face, and through he couldn’t see his whole face, Sougo sees the glistening of tears running down Riku’s cheeks.

 

He feels his own tears start to fall again, and as he cries quietly by Tamaki’s side, Tamaki continues to hold his hand, never letting go once.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Tamaki-san?”

 

“Hm.”

 

Sougo leans against Tamaki’s shoulder as the pair watches from the sunset in the mortal realm, perched on top of a tree branch. They remain unseen by the people below. Their fingers interlace with each other’s as they soak in each other’s presence.  “I’m happy for Riku-kun. About his future reincarnation, I mean. It’s so hard for a God to get such a chance.”

 

“Hm,” Tamaki agrees, “I don’t know the God of Health too well, but he’s a good kid. He deserves it.”

 

Sougo hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip. “Tamaki-san?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“If you…” Sougo pauses. “If you were given the chance to reincarnate in the future, would you?”

 

Tamaki doesn’t hesitate.

 

“Only on one condition.”

 

“What is it?” Sougo asks curiously.

 

Tamaki glances at him. He isn’t wearing his mask today, and Sougo could see his full face being illuminated by the warm glow of the sunset. It highlights the sharpness of his features, but also the gentleness in his gaze and smile; a combination that makes Sougo’s heart beat faster.

 

“In the new life, even if I don’t remember you, I want to see you again,” Tamaki answers earnestly, “If I were to return as a mortal, I want to be in a life where I could meet you. That’s my only condition. Reincarnation is meaningless otherwise.”

 

Sougo.

 

Sougo doesn’t expect that answer.

 

Warmth rises up to his cheeks, and he drops his gaze in embarrassment. “I-I see,” he stutters out, “That’s…”

 

“What about you, Your Highness?” asks Tamaki, “Do you want to be reincarnated if you could?”

 

Sougo chooses not to hesitate, either. Not anymore.

 

“Only on one condition.”

 

Tamaki raises his eyebrow. “Oh?”

 

His cheeks still flushed, Sougo lifts his gaze to meet Tamaki’s determinedly. “If I could meet you again. This time, properly. With no secrets. A fresh start between the two of us.” His gaze softens “That’s all I want.”

 

Tamaki stares at Sougo for a good few seconds, his eyes widening, before he hastily turns away, covering his mouth with his hand. For a brief second, Sougo thinks he might be upset at his words, but then, he sees the faint blush on Tamaki’s cheeks.

 

“Your Highness is so sly,” Tamaki complains, “Saying such words without warning.”

 

“You said pretty much the same thing,” Sougo points out.

 

“Yeah, but it sounds better when you said it.” Tamaki lowers his hand and turns to face Sougo once more. “Your Highness, you know how to make a God’s heart race, don’t you?”

 

Sougo splutters, not expecting those words. “Y-You--!”

 

“Your Highness,” Tamaki says again, suddenly sombre.

 

“Y-Yes?”

 

Sougo blinks owlishly when Tamaki suddenly takes Sougo’s hands in his. “Can I kiss you?” asks Tamaki seriously.

 

If Sougo’s face is hot before, it’s bursting into flames now.

 

“U-um!” Sougo flushes deeply. He could feel his brain short-circuiting. Tamaki is still waiting for his answer, still holding his hands, his expression still earnest as ever.

 

“If anyone is sly around here, it’s you,” Sougo complains softly.

 

Tamaki’s lips quirk upwards. “Hm? Am I?”

 

“But….” Sougo shyly looks at him from underneath his eyelashes. “You...You can. You may.”

 

Tamaki smiles wder, before letting go of Sougo’s hands to cup Sougo’s cheeks gently, leaning in closer. Sougo’s heart thumps erratically in his chest when he feels Tamaki’s warm breath wash over his face, and instinctively he closes his eyes.

 

He hears a murmur.

 

“I love you, Your Highness.”

 

Sougo barely has time think of those softly murmured words, before he feels something soft press against his lips.

 

He doesn’t think about anything else after that.

 

As the sun continues to set in the mortal realm, the two Gods hidden among the trees continue to kiss, enjoying their own little world that is neither the Heavens or the mortal realm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Many centuries later, when Gods are no longer as revered as in the past, and most have chosen to reincarnate back into mortals to live out an entirely new life, one Literature God and one God of War promised to meet each other again no matter how long it takes. One disappeared in a flurry of cherry blossom petals, while the other faded away in the light. The last thing they saw was each other’s smiles.

 

It is now the modern day. Spring has just begun in the city of Tokyo, painting the scenery with splashes of white and pink. A lone figure looks up at the trees, his eyes widening as he takes in the view.

 

 _Wow, the cherry blossoms are really blooming this year!_ marvels a young man. There is a suitcase by his side as he stands on the sidewalk, admiring the view. A soft smile adorns his face as he continues to look at the flowers, a single thought running through his mind. _I’ll live a new life from now on._

 

His smile softens around the edges when new images flurry inside his mind; images of a stern man he calls his father, who wore a disapproving frown the last, and perhaps even the final, time he saw him. _You were scouted by an idol company? What about the university?_ his father demanded, _The reason why you can’t succeed in music is obvious if you just remember you uncle. Even if you try to go through with it, you will never be successful!_

 

The young man’s expression turns determined, his hands curling into a loose fist at his sides. _Even so, I will pursue music,_ he thinks resolutely. It is his dream, and for the first time in his life, he is going to pursue it. By hook or by crook.

 

Just then, he spots another figure in the distance. Despite being noticeably taller than himself, there is a sort of youthfulness and inexperience on the person’s face that the makes the young man guess the person to be no older than a teenger. The teenage boy is holding a piece of paper and is looking at in confusion, occasionally scratching his head and looking from side to side. From his behaviour alone, the young man could guess that the teenager is probably looking for something. He decides to approach him.

 

“Are you looking for something?” asks the young man politely.

 

The teenager barely glances at him before holding up the piece of paper up to the young man’s face. “Here,” he says gruffly.

 

The young man looks at the paper and sees a familiar name.

 

“Takanashi Productions?” he notes in pleasant surprise, “I’m also going there.”

 

The teenager gives him a slow blink in response. “Oh, really?”

 

The young man smiles amiably. “Then, let’s go together,” he suggests.

 

The teenager shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “‘Kay.”

 

“My name is Osaka Sougo,” the young man adds as the pair walk together side by side. “What about yours?”

 

“Yotsuba Tamaki,” the teenager replies lazily.

 

Sougo offers another polite smile. “Nice to -,”

 

Just then, their hands brush together, and instantly, a sharp sensation jolts up their spines. The pair flinch, before turning to look at each other in surprise.

 

The sensation isn’t painful, but it serves well as an aftershock. It feels like static. Maybe it was the trick of the Heavens above, with Gods who wanted to play with the two individuals’ fate. Perhaps it was merely caused by the changing of the seasons.

 

The moment their skin touched, it was as if a burst of electricity ran through their veins.

 

**Author's Note:**

> In regards to honorifics, Sougo addressed Tamaki with the -san suffix because Tamaki was much more “senior” than him as a God (ie: at least a few centuries) and he wasn’t familiar with him (yet), thus calling him with -kun would seem a bit rude, considering how Sougo’s personality is in canon. Iori and Nagi were still addressed with -kun because they’re really familiar with each other and compared to MEZZO”, their gap in seniority isn’t particularly that big. Perhaps in time, Sougo would address Tamaki differently as they grow closer ;). Also, Gods don’t have surnames so please excuse the fact that Iori calls everyone by their first names. ;^^
> 
> I had fun writing this! Among the prompts given by my giftee, included fantasy and masks, and I just.... lost control hahaha. I honestly didn't expect it to be this long RIP. In any case, I hope all of you enjoyed reading this monster hahah. Can anyone recognize the final scene? ;)
> 
> Kudos/comments/bookmarks are appreciated! You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/tennssi0907) ! My giftee is Yubbie!


End file.
